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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22468009">Jack's Ex-Time Traveller Postal Delivery Service</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanderbird/pseuds/Wanderbird'>Wanderbird</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Time may be Linear (but people aren't) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who &amp; Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Gen, Jack's Ex-Time Traveller Postal Delivery Service</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 08:40:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22468009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanderbird/pseuds/Wanderbird</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Alright, just to confirm.”</p>
<p>Jack Harkness glanced up at the couple. The pile of papers in his hands was a good several inches thick, but he thumbed through it with a smile. “I’ve got a package for River, if I ever see her again. A letter for Brian Williams, sometime after June 2012. Two notes for Madame Vastra, Jenny, and Strax sometime after the Battle of Demon’s Run, their time. A letter for the Doctor, the one with the chin or later. One note for Amelia Pond, to be delivered as soon as I can after I’m back in 2006, and a last letter for your successor Clara Oswin Oswald, preferably shortly after she meets the Doctor. Does that sound right?” <br/>The redheaded woman’s hand clenched in her husband’s. She nodded. “Yeah,” her voice started to break. “Yeah, that sounds right.” <br/>“Thanks for tracking us down,” the man added. “Really. I’ve been dying to send a message to my dad.”</p>
<p>Jack grinned, but his salute was bittersweet. “Lovely meeting you two. But I guess I'll see you around.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amy Pond/Rory Williams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Time may be Linear (but people aren't) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616509</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>127</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Jack's Ex-Time Traveller Postal Delivery Service</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>...Okay I wasn't planning to write this, but I started sketching it out on my phone and then I just couldn't stop. I guess it's a series now? Thanks for reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Excuse me!” <br/>Amy turned to look back at the door, pausing as she took off her rain slicker. The man in the door seemed to be searching her face for something, with messy black hair and a grey overcoat that dripped from the rain. <br/>“Amy and Rory, right?” he asked. “Pond?” <br/>Amy rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to say it?” she snapped. “No solicitors!”<br/>“That’s not—”</p>
<p>“Amy.” That was Rory, peering out from behind her now that little Anthony had run off to the kitchen. “Amy, World War Two hasn’t happened yet.” <br/>“So?” She kept her eyes on the stranger. That tone of voice never boded well, and this man had a distinctly military bearing, though his expression was earnest. <br/>“So why’s this guy wearing a World War Two-era coat?” <br/>The stranger smirked. “You’re right, it’s an anachronism.” His fingers settled on the belt at his waist, arms bent out to the side. “I’ve always loved this thing, though. Madame Vastra mentioned you two the last time I visited, and I thought I’d say hello.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” That made… a strange kind of sense. “So you’re stuck here too?” It was comforting, holding Rory’s warmth in her hand. If this turned out for the worse, they would be together. <br/>A shrug. “More or less. The name’s Captain Jack Harkness. I used to travel with the Doctor.”<br/>“And you came to us… because you need some help getting settled?” Rory sounded skeptical. She didn’t blame him. <br/>“No, actually.” Jack gave a grin, and that grin lit up the whole entryway. “I know my way around, I mean I’ve lived through the 19<sup>th</sup> and 20<sup>th</sup> centuries a good two or three times or so already. I’m here to make you an offer—the same one I’ve made all the other companions of the Doctor I’ve found on this go-around. Mind if I come in?”</p>
<p>Without words, Amy moved out of the doorway.</p>
<p>The stranger settled down appreciatively in their kitchen, accepting Rory’s offer of tea. Beneath his coat was a pale cream shirt and suspenders, some kind of leather wristwatch thing, a holster. “He was really broken up about you two, you know.” Jack cradled his tea in his hands. “That’s what Jenny said, anyway. That he locked himself up in his TARDIS like it was an ivory tower, and didn’t come out until Clara showed up asking for help with her pond. Apparently she just about gave him a heart attack, with all that one-word test bull. She chose the word pond.”<br/>“Who’s Clara?” Rory handed her a cup of tea, as well. Peppermint, by the smell.</p>
<p>“Sorry.” Jack smiled. “Guess I’m not too sure on that one myself. That Clara was working as a governess, I think, a few streets down from Madame Vastra’s place. I talked to her once or twice, she was sweet, and definitely clever. That Clara died. But I’ve also seen her travelling with the Doc sometimes, so I don’t know what that’s about? Nice girl. A little uptight. She loosened up a bit after that thing with the dinosaur, though, which is more around when I met that version of her.”</p>
<p>“…right.” The tea was lovely, if a little over-sweet. Rory always did like things sweet. “So… what’s your offer, anyways?”</p>
<p>“Right!” Jack took a sip. “Right. I’ve been running a kind of a messenger service, for all the people the Doc leaves behind here, outside his main travel zone. If you guys have anything you want me to pass on, to the Doc or anyone else downstream of where we are, I’d be happy to deliver it. Well,” he amended, “I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to get to any deliveries between 1995 and 2006, since I don’t remember seeing myself, and I have to end up in the freezer when people look for me, given what was going on when I got tossed back here again. Not looking forward to that, let me tell you. I’ve got some newfound claustrophobia that makes that bloody freezer feel way too close to a hole in the ground. But before 1995 or after 2006? Golden.” He hesitated. “I also can’t guarantee I’ll meet any particular timeframe of the Doctor again, but I can at least make sure it’s one who met you, if you tell me which face was yours.” <br/>“What about River?” Amy couldn’t help but ask. Probably he couldn’t, but… “River Song, I mean. She doesn’t spend a lot of time on Earth.”</p>
<p>Jack blinked. “You mean <em>Professor</em> River Song?” His voice was incredulous. “You have a message for Professor River Song?!” He paused, but eventually nodded, slowly. “No promises. I know the Doc only gets to meet her for a few lifetimes, but I’m a little less in the thick of things than he is, so far as the timestream is concerned. I think I can arrange that. Once I’m out of Torchwood, if nothing else.” <br/>Rory was the first to answer, though he sounded strained. “…How?” When Amy gave him a look, he insisted. “How do you plan to get back there? I mean it sounds like you can’t just jump away on your nearest handy time travel device either, or you would have already.” <br/>“Easy.” Jack shrugged. “I go the long way around.” <br/>“You’ll die, though, same as us. Old age.” Amy frowned. “Right?”</p>
<p>That was when it clicked. <br/>“You’re waiting for him,” Rory realized. “You’re… oh. Like me as a Roman, except hopefully less made of Dalek. You’re immortal.”</p>
<p>“Bingo.” The stranger’s face was a little sad, now. “Though I’m not made of Dalek. Death just doesn’t like to stick. Long story, but technically I guess my existence is a fact of the universe, thanks to some serious trouble I got into with the Doc back in the day. I got vaporized by Daleks, and Rose fixed it, only she fixed it way too much and now I can never stay dead. Have you two met Rose? I bet you’d like her.” <br/>Rory shook his head. “Nah. But you know, I really wish I’d been immortal for those two thousand years. Would’ve made a lot of things a whole lot easier.” <br/>“Definitely.” Amy agreed. “How long can you stick around?”</p>
<p>Jack’s breath left his lungs in a rush. “As long as you need,” he answered. “I’ve got nowhere else to be.”</p>
<p>“Then just… stay here, alright? Actually, why don’t you stay over for a few days?” Why not? It would be nice, if a little bittersweet, to hear news of the Doctor again. Besides, maybe Jack would have some stories about River, too.</p>
<p>“You know what?” Jack Harkness grinned. “I would love that.”</p>
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